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232 TALES OF THE PUNJAB

Of course he never came back, though trusting Miss Crocodile waited patiently for him; at last she understood what a gay deceitful fellow he was, and determined to have her revenge on him one way or another.

So she hid herself in the water, under the roots of a tree, close to a ford where Mr. Jackal always came to drink. By and by, sure enough, he came lilting along in a self-satisfied way, and went right into the water for a good long draught. Whereupon Miss Crocodile seized him by the right leg, and held on. He guessed at once what had happened, and called out, ‘Oh! my heart’s adored! I’m drowning! I’m drowning! If you love me, leave hold of that old root and get a good grip of my leg—it is just next door!’

Hearing: this, Miss Crocodile thought she must have made a mistake, and, letting go the Jackal’s leg in a hurry, seized an old root close by, and held on. Whereupon Mr. Jackal jumped nimbly to shore, and ran off with his tail up, calling out, ‘Have a little patience, my beauty! The barber will come some day !’

But this time Miss Crocodile knew better than to wait, and being now dreadfully angry, she crawled away to the Jackal’s hole, and slipping inside, lay quiet.

By and by Mr. Jackal came lilting along with his tail up.

‘Ho! ho! That is your game, is it?’ said he to himself, when he saw the trail of the crocodile in the sandy soil. So he stood outside, and said aloud, ‘Bless my stars! what has happened? I don’t half

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